Wedding Plans
by Ella Press
Summary: Written for the Three AM Challenge. Ron/Hermione. Hermione's worried about her and Ron's upcoming wedding, so she wakes him up to talk. Rated M for lemons. One shot.


**Wedding Plans – Written for the Three AM Challenge**

**Rules: Write a Fic containing the line: "Do you really think three in the morning is the appropriate time to be discussing this?"**

**Ron/Hermione Pairing. Rated M for lemons. **

**Enjoy and review!**

"Ron! Ron, wake up!" a voice screamed in my ear. Whoever it was started shaking me by the shoulder, trying to wake me. My brain was all fuzzy with sleep, I couldn't understand what this person was saying. I'd been having such a great dream. I could still see it behind my eyelids... I'd been with Hermione, alone in our room, in our house...

"Mmm," I mumbled. "What?" I still couldn't shake the sleepiness off of me. Where was I again?

"I changed my mind, I don't want The Strange Sisters' Band playing on our wedding. My grandmother would have a heart attack at the sight of the little goblin who plays the bass."

"Hermione..." I said into my pillow.

I was home, in my bed, the bed I shared with the woman I loved. The woman I was about to marry.

I'd been scared at first, when I'd realised I wanted to ask her, after Harry had asked Ginny. But, as nervous as I'd been, I could see Hermione was just as nervous as was, when I got down on one knee in front of her and she realised what was happening. She'd gotten so pale, I'd been sure she'd been about to faint. But, she'd managed to pull herself together, and I'd asked her if she'd be willing to spend the rest of her life with a silly man like me. She'd laughed then, and a weight had lifted off my chest the second I heard her laughing. Her smile melted my heart away, and I knew I was making the right choice.

Right after we'd announced our engagement to our families, chaos started. My mother now had, not one, but two weddings to plan. Hermione's mother had been talking to her, telling her that she, too, was willing to help with the planning. Mum had looked wary at her, certainly thinking Mrs. Granger knew nothing of magical celebrations. But she couldn't do it alone, so she'd agreed. After a while, the two of them had become friends, and Hermione's parents would go to the Burrow for dinner every other weekend.

"I know your brothers and Ginny love that band, and, honestly, I like it too, but I don't think my family will be able to tolerate so much magic in one night," she said, and started pacing in front of me. I turned to lay on my side and watched her going back and forth, her arms crossed over her chest.

Not all of her family knew about her magical status, only her immediate family: her grandparents, her aunts and uncles and a couple of cousins, that was all. They knew, but they hadn't actually seen much of it, Hermione had only demonstrated her abilities on few ocassions to them, just silly spells, like Levitating Charms, and Apparating. Thinking of Hermione's 85 year old grandmother dancing to the beat of a bass played by a goblin, was outright hilarious. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Ronald, this is serious!" she said, and swatted at my arm. "It's our wedding! I want it to be perfect!"

"Hermione, this whole thing is stressing you out more than usual. You know our mothers are planning it, so stop worrying, and come back to bed already. What time is it anyway?" I asked her.

She looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand, and said, "Three a.m." without stopping her pacing.

I groaned.

"Do you really think three in the morning is the appropriate time to be discussing this?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd wake you," she said.

"Thanks for that, I was having a very pleasant dream until you woke me."

She stopped in her tracks then, a playful smile curling her lips.

"I know, I heard," she said, in a low, lust filled voice. "Must have been a really good dream."

God, she sounded so freaking sexy! I couldn't stop myself from looking at her, up and down, and licking my lips while doing it.

She was wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of mine, the warm weather was working for my advantage. Her long legs were exposed, perfectly shaven, soft as silk. Her brown curls were wild around her shoulders. She wasn't wearing a bra, leaving little to the imagination.

"It was perfect," I said, in the same low tone of voice. She walked closer to me, and I was able to caress her legs with my hands now. "Well, not _perfect, _great, but definitely not perfect."

She looked down at me, disappointment on her face.

"And why wasn't it perfect?" She sounded almost angry. She knew I'd been dreaming about her, and _what_ I'd been dreaming of.

"Because," I said, taking my hand up to her thighs, and listening to her breath fasten, "it wasn't the real thing. No dream can be compared to you."

She moaned right then, and I reached her wet underwear, and started rubbing her through it. She was still standing, and her legs were beginning to falter. She grabbed my head and kissed me fiercely, and I lost it.

I took her by the waist and rolled her on the bed, placing her under me.

My hand went up to her breasts then, and I cupped one with my left hand, while the other entangled itself on her hair. I loved the way she shivered under me, and how she took her hands to the back of my neck, pulling me closer.

She was mine. She'd always be. I couldn't believe this perfect woman would be mine forever in a couple of months.

My left hand went under her t-shirt, brushing her stomach, going up to her nipple. She moaned into my mouth.

I was going insane, so I pulled myself off of her, and forced her to sit up, taking her t-shirt off as soon as she was up. There was no need for me to undress. We'd already taken care of that before I'd fallen asleep.

My breathing was hard, _all _of me was.

I gently pushed her down again, and began kissing her stomach, licking it, going up, and sucking at her. I knew what it was doing to her, I was driving her crazy. And I loved it.

She buried her hands on my hair, keeping me in place. But there were other things on my mind. I kissed her on the lips, looking at her. Her eyes were lustful, and I knew mine were too.

I was dying to enter her, but I wanted to please her first. To show her how much she meant to me.

I made my way down her belly, and started kissing her wet core.

She shivered again, lifting her body slightly off the bed at my touch.

I tasted her, drinking her up. My tounge flicking up and down her folds, hearing her moan my name. I brought my hand up, and into her, massaging her so I could take my head up and look at her face.

She found my eyes, and our gazes locked.

Then, she brought a hand to her breast and started gripping and tugging, all the while looking at me.

I was panting. I'd had enough of this, I wanted us to come together.

So, I took my hand from her folds, and she groaned in frustration.

But not long after, I'd placed myself over her, and finally, gloriously, entered her.

We both moaned. She brought her hips up, trying to get closer than we already were.

She was perfectly tight and wet, all for me. I'd been the only man in her life, and I'd always be.

We rocked our bodies, grinding into each other, faster, faster.

Until neither could take it anymore.

We both came at the same time, collasped on a heap of sweaty sheets, our limbs entangled.

Our breathing was still elaborated. I kissed her, everywhere I could reach, and smiled to myself.

"I love you," she said into my ear.

I looked down at her, and found her smiling up at me.

"I love you more," I told her.


End file.
